


the science of divergence(the falcon remix)

by twistedsky



Series: two paths diverged(and I could not take them both) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 14:26:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1944597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedsky/pseuds/twistedsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers has a choice on his first day at his new high school--sit next to Bucky Barnes or Sam Wilson. In this universe, he chooses Sam. (Includes Pepper/Tony, eventual Steve/Bucky, lots of platonic Sam/Steve, and a dash of Sam/Natasha.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the science of divergence(the falcon remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flyingthesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingthesky/gifts).



> Warnings for, well, underage drinking, mostly. 
> 
> So, about two months ago my best friend and I started talking about some CW pilot from several years ago. This series (my fic and my friend's companion piece, which will be posted on the 25th) is a product of us sitting on her couch and going, "What if" a few too many times.
> 
> All mistakes are my own, and I own absolutely nothing. The series title is a twist on a Robert Frost poem, the idea is from a CW pilot, and the characters are Marvel's.

Sam isn’t even paying attention when Steve Rogers walks into his first period class on an otherwise bland November day. His head shoots immediately up the moment he hears Coulson say that they have a new student though, because that’s actually strange.

Transferring almost halfway through senior year seems like a bad idea to him, but hey, who is he to judge?

Sam knows that there are only two open seats in the classroom, and he’s sitting right next to one of them. There’s a fifty-fifty shot that this kid will end up next to him, which could be good or bad, depending.

He looks at the other open seat, which is next to Bucky Barnes, who looks the part of the disinterested dilettante. Steve Rogers is currently looking back and forth between the two of them, and he clearly can’t decide, and Sam is conflicted, because he seems perfectly nice, but he could be another Tony Stark for all he knows.

Sam suppresses a shudder, because the last thing he needs is another Tony Stark in his life.

At this very moment that he becomes terribly horrified that he’s going to have to try to keep yet another mad genius from blowing up the school, Steve Rogers sits down in the seat to his left, and smiles at him.

Well, he supposes, it’s too late to give the guy a nasty look to scare him away.

~~

“I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“I got that,” Sam says with a slight smile, just to try and pretend that he’s a friendly person.

The truth of the matter is that he has a small circle of friends, and one of them is the head of the administration office, where he works as a TA during sixth period. He’s a busy guy, and busy guys who plan on going to college and then joining the air force to be a pilot don’t have time for more than a few problem friends.

“I like your shirt,” Steve says, and unlike most high schoolers, he doesn’t seem to be mocking Sam’s interest in protecting his country, and his interest in wearing an air force shirt.

“Really?” Sam raises an eyebrow.

“I might join the army someday myself. I don’t know. I was sick, when I was younger,” Steve hesitates. “Makes you feel a little fragile, even when things change. Makes you want to protect the people who can’t protect themselves.”

Sam gives Steve another cursory glance. “You don’t look fragile to me.” He looks _built._ He hesitates slightly, and then decides that Steve seems to be a perfectly nice person. “I’m Sam Wilson.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sam,” Steve tells him with a smile that Sam swears is like pure sunshine.

Some people, Sam thinks, are too nice to be ignored.

~~

It turns out that he and Steve actually have a few other classes together, and so it seems natural for Sam to just show him around. They don’t actually have second period together, but they do have third, and so Sam promises to meet Steve after his second class during break so that he can introduce him to some people.

Sam is a little reticent to do that, but hey, if Tony _does_ scare Steve away, at least that’ll just solve the problem altogether.

When he goes to pick up Steve outside of his senior English class, he’s just trying to figure out how he’s going to explain his ‘friends’ to Steve. To be fair, he’s not really sure how to explain Steve to them either, because from the five minute conversation they had in the morning, he only really figured out that Steve’s an artist, he used to be sick, and he has a subtle humor that really works for him.

Having spent far too much time with Tony Stark in the recent years, whose idea of a joke is more of a prank that involves almost blowing up half the school, it’s a welcome break.

“This is Bruce,” Sam says, pointing to the most reasonable of his friends, “and this is Tony.”

“Delighted to meet you,” Tony looks devious, which scares Sam a little, so he sidesteps in front of Steve.

“Tony has a habit of blowing things up, so um, be careful,” Sam warns, rolling his eyes when Tony acts like Sam has committed some kind of grave offense.

“Don’t listen to Tony,” Bruce says, shaking his head. “He’s actually known for it. There’s a school rule dedicated to Tony not wrecking stuff.”

“I’ll have you know that I shamelessly break that rule on a regular basis,” Tony cuts in, and Steve just nods his head, clearly fascinated (but also a little scared).

Sam decides in this moment that he likes Steve.

~~

They bond over pie. Steve and Sam both _love_ pie.

There’s something to be said about the quality of a friend with the right kind of taste in pies(most people prefer chocolate or maybe even banana cream, but Steve just likes _pie_ ).

Sam likes that Steve isn’t picky about his pie(and yet, he also likes that Steve understands the difference between good pie and bad pie).

Plus, Steve appreciates key lime pie, and what’s more important than that?

~~

The thing about Sam, you see, is that he’s actually pretty simple. He has a few close friends(though, to be fair, Mr. Stark kind of bribed him to make sure that Tony doesn’t end up bleeding in the hallways, because Principal Fury is super intense about that particular rule), he’s a big fan of food, he has goals and plans to help him achieve those goals, and he likes to volunteer at the VA downtown.

Sam likes to think he’s a good person—his honor and his integrity are incredibly important to him, and so even though he’s only known Steve for a day or two, he suggests that the guy buy a ticket for the winter formal and come with Sam and his group of friends.

Good people can be hard to find, and so when you do find one, you kind of have to hold onto them.

His friends seem to like Steve too, so that’s nice.

It’s easy enough to fold Steve into his life—they end up partners for some end of the semester project in econ, and Steve hangs out with the group during break and lunch for the first few days, and then bam, he’s hanging out with them after school too.

It’s kind of like he’s always been there, which is an odd sort of feeling when you’ve only known someone for a few days.

~~

Sam’s idea of a party involves relaxation, but Tony’s . . . does not. Tony’s involves inviting all of his friends from their school and like two other schools, and rigging things to explode confetti.

Sam isn’t sure what it is about his school that collects mad scientists with a fascination with confetti, but it must be a thing, because they have like five.

Tony also seems to think that the Friday before winter formal is the perfect time for a party, but that’s just Tony for you.

Tony’s dad is off doing—actually, Sam isn’t sure what he does when he isn’t at school teaching or at home, but he doesn’t really want to know—things, so the house is free and clear. Sam stays clear of everything there is to drink, because the first time Sam went to one of these parties he discovered  about halfway through his fourth glass of 7-up that Tony literally spiked every drink in the house with alcohol.

He looks around to see Tony wrapped around his cute girlfriend Pepper who goes to school across town. Pepper brought her friends Jane(who brought her boyfriend Thor, who is the human equivalent of a teddy bear) and Darcy, who took over as DJ about fifteen minutes ago, which explains why they just went from one obscure song Sam’s never heard before to another he’s not even sure can be described as music.

Steve is talking to Tony’s best friend Rhodey, which means he probably won’t be scared off from this party(at least not anytime soon, because he’s part of the half of the room that doesn’t experiment with dangerous stuff on a regular basis).

Sam realizes a few hours later that Steve doesn’t know about Tony’s sneaky spiking tendencies, and so he goes over with a smile to suggest that he avoid drinking anymore, but it’s already too late.

“I didn’t even touch the alcohol,” Steve says, surprised when he almost falls over when he gets up from the couch he’d been sitting on.

Sam tries and fails not to laugh, grabbing onto Steve to help him to Sam’s car, so that he can drive him home. “I’m afraid the alcohol touched you. I forgot to warn you—if you want to drink at a Tony Stark party, you have to bring your own non-alcoholic beverages.”

“I don’t really drink,” Steve says, and Sam winces.

“Well, you’re going to feel like crap tomorrow, but just think of it as your initiation.”

“I can’t go home like this.”

“That’s why you’re sleeping over at my house, Rogers. My mom’s out of town on some business trip, so you won’t have to worry about parental judgment until you go home tomorrow to get your things for the formal and you’re so hungover you want to die.”

“That sounds . . . awful,” Steve laughs, despite himself, which makes Sam tilt him toward the Stark’s bushes while they make their way down the sidewalk.

No sense in ruining his car upholstery when there’s a perfectly acceptable bush here(it is Tony’s fault, after all).

~~

It takes most of the day leading up to the dance for Steve to feel better.

Sam is actually surprised he looks as good as he does. “After my first Tony party, I was hungover for _three days_.”

Steve just shrugs. “I think it’s because I gave into the vomiting instead of fighting it,” he gives Sam a weak smile, and Sam just shakes his head.

They walk across the almost empty parking lot.

“Is no one coming to this thing?” Steve inquires, and Sam just sighs.

“Yeah, people will be here. We’re just on time.” Technically they’re even early, but there’s no reason to make things worse than they already are.

“Ah,” Steve says as if he understands, and then he turns to Sam. “Why?”

“I promised the chaperones I’d help set up,” Sam says, maybe a little guiltily. “You can just hang out and wait for people to show up, but Ms.Carter asked, and I kind of can’t say no to her.”

“Isn’t Ms. Carter the one who keeps trying to set you up with her grand-niece or something?”

“Exactly. I find that the more I acquiesce, the less she tries to set me up on a blind date with the girl.” Sam is sure that Sharon Carter is perfectly nice, but he does not need to explain to her why her grand-aunt is trying to set her up with him of all people. According to Pepper, who goes to the same school that Sharon does, she can find her own dates just fine anyway.

Steve nods like he understands and then without hesitation offers to help. “I can help.”

Sam narrows his eyes and takes a good look at him and then nods. “Okay.” No sense in turning down help.

“This is Skye,” Sam says, pointing to the girl in a neon pink dress who is trying to set up the tables. Sam and Steve go to help her drag them all of the way across the gym.

“Wouldn’t it make sense to just leave them on the other side?” Steve asks.

“It messes up the flow of things,” Skye explains. “If the tables with the drinks and the snacks are near the door, no one will ever make it to the other side, and people will bunch up, and—“ Skye shakes her head very seriously. “Absolutely not.”

“Ah,” Steve says. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Oh yeah, Sam told me about you.” Skye gives him a curious look.

Steve looks to Sam. “All good things I hope?”

“Of course,” Skye says serenely, like she has something to hide. She doesn’t, of course, she’s just trying to mess with him. She turns to Sam. “Here to get Carter off your back about dating Sharon?”

Sam winces. “Maybe.” Sam is actually pretty sure that Ms.Carter just needs someone to boss around, and that she doesn’t actually want him to date Sharon at all.

Skye just shakes her head. “She’d probably be on my case too if I were single.” She winks at Steve. “You better watch your back, Steve.”

“How many tables are there?” Sam asks when they finally get their first where it needs to go.

“Six,” Skye says, and Sam groans.

 “Of course there are. Let’s get to it.”

~~

An hour later, when the formal is in full swing, Sam is just watching from the sidelines, leaning against the wall and contemplating how good his bed is going to feel later that night when suddenly he hears arguing.

And, of course, when Sam gets closer to the action, Grant Ward is hitting on Skye again, even though she couldn’t be less interested in him.

“Leave the lady alone,” Sam watches as Steve tries to step in, and then smiles when Skye holds up a hand, looks around to look for something(or someone, Sam thinks), looks disappointed, and then punches Grant right in the face.

“I’m impressed,” he hears Steve tell Skye. “You’ve got a mean right hook. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Melinda May, one of the school’s English teachers, is kind of like Skye’s mentor, and she definitely taught Skye how to throw that punch to make it really hurt. It’s going to leave a mark. Skye smiles at Sam as he finally gets there. “I think we probably have to go.”

Sam narrows his eyes at Skye. “You were just looking for an excuse, weren’t you?”

Skye shrugs. “He never learns.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sam says, and she knows it.

Steve looks between the two of him, brow furrowed and a thoughtful look on his face.

Skye swishes her brown hair over her shoulder dramatically and sighs. “I suppose I’ve been caught,” she places her hand on her chest and flutters her eyelids.

She manages to hold the pose for about two seconds before she bursts out laughing. Her eyes are sparkling with mischief. “So are you guys up for some fun or not?”

~~

“The thing about Skye is that you kind of always realize that she warned you after the fact,” Sam explains. “We are, after all, _up_ for some fun.” Sam doesn’t mind, of course. He finds heights comforting.

“We’re on the roof of the gymnasium.” Steve seems to be rethinking his friendship with Sam, Sam thinks. Sam has plans and goals and all of that jazz, but he also has friends with quite criminal insincts.

Skye comes up next to them. “Are you ready?”

Steve’s eyes widen in surprise. “What?”

Sam winces, because he’s pretty sure he knows what’s about to happen—he hears a minor explosive noise, and nods his head. “Was it you or Tony this time?” Sam asks Skye.

“It was a joint effort,” she says proudly. “We went for glitter this time,” she does jazz hands and looks incredibly proud of herself. “Speaking of which,” she frowns. “There should be an alarm about—“ the fire alarm goes off, and she nods, smiling. “There we go.”

Sam sneaks a look at Steve, who seems to be having difficulty reconciling things. “Is it always like this?”

“No,” Sam says at the same time that Skye says yes.

“Just sometimes,” Skye concedes. “We study hard and play hard too. Our study parties are legendary, and I promise they don’t involve glitter bombs or excessive alcohol.” She winks at Steve after she mentions the alcohol, and then leans her back against the roof.

“Glitter bombs?” Steve shakes his head. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

“Can they-um, see us from down there?” Steve asks, looking down at the group of people gathering on the ground outside because of the alarm.

“Not if you lean back,” Sam tells him, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning back.

Steve seems conflicted for a moment, and Sam is half-tempted to tell him to just chill out, but then Steve just shrugs and leans back, and they all stare up at the stars for a while waiting for the all-clear.

~~

Sam’s first study date with Steve(and that’s what he calls them, because friend dates are an important thing when you’re getting to know someone) is a few days after winter formal, because the next week is finals, which(of course) sucks, and they have that econ project to work on, and other finals to study for.

“Do you think this is too much glue?” Sam asks, looking down at their poster board and frowning.

“Definitely.” Steve frowns. “Or maybe—“ he says, and then hesitates. “Maybe it’s not _enough.”_

Sam concerns his words and then nods. “You’re right. You can never have enough glue.”

Twenty minutes later, when they pick up the poster with all of its glued on little things, they wince when the middle of the poster board sags down a little.

“Maybe we used a little too much glue.”

“Is glue even that heavy?” Sam asks, trying to figure out where they went wrong.

“Maybe it’ll be fine,” Steve offers, wincing because he knows that’s probably not the case. “We kept covering up the glue with more little things, and then we had to put more glue onto it in order to keep it on, and then we had to put _more_ things on to cover up the glue and—“

“We would make terrible kindergarteners,” Sam concludes.”

“I was a great kindergartener,” Steve insists. With a serious face he says, “The actual assignment compromised my artistic vision.”

Sam snorts, and then coughs to cover it up.

Steve tilts his head at him. “Was that a snort?”

“Of course not,” Sam gives him a look that he hope says ‘you have no idea what you’re talking about’ but he has a feeling it comes off a little bit more as ‘I may be slightly constipated.’

“I see,” Steve says, nodding his head slightly. “Do you want to get started on studying for econ?”

“Absolutely not,” Sam says, and then sighs. “But I guess we have to.” He plops back down on the couch next to Steve, who is still staring at their mess of a poster. “We are seniors in high school, why are we glittering up the poster board like we’re five years old?”

“Because we took environmental instead of physics, and we’re being punished,” Steve answers without hesitation.

“That’s exactly it.” Sam frowns. “Do you want to order pizza?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve says with a quick nod of his head. “I vote we order, then study until it gets here. Very productive.”

“I like the way you think.”

~~

After the final bell rings on the final day of the fall semester, Sam walks with his friends to the front of the school. Tony is already planning half a dozen parties for the break, Bruce is nodding his head along as if he actually cares(Sam knows from experience that he really, really doesn’t).

Sam sits down in front of some plants in front of the school, and the rest of them sit down next to him in a line.

Steve stares at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy sign and frowns. “What does it stand for anyway?”

“What does what stand for?” Sam had zoned out for a second, so he’d missed Steve’s train of thought.

“The S.H.I.E.L.D. in S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy,” Steve explains.

Sam laughs. “Oh, that’s quite the question right there.”

Tony stops talking to Bruce and immediately turns to Sam and Steve. “There’s this legend—“

Bruce laughs. “By legend he means that people just kind of make things up.”

“Don’t interrupt,” Tony frowns. “I know your mother taught you manners.”

Sam shares a look with Steve, and they both try not to laugh.

Skye pops up at that moment and sits down in the empty spot next to Sam. “Did I just hear Tony talk about manners? I mean, the thing of which Tony has naught?”

Sam definitely doesn’t laugh at that, because last time he entered into one of their little spats, he ended up covered in tomato sauce and egg whites. You have to pick your battles with the two of them.

Steve, taking his cue from Sam, also doesn’t involve himself. In fact, he even tries to neutralize the situation, which is both sweet and more than a little naïve.

“So, what does it stand for?” Steve asks again, and both Skye and Tony turn to look at him.

“What?” Skye asks, confused. “What does what stand for?”

“I think the S stands for school,” Sam says, but Tony shakes his head dramatically and stands up.

“No,” Tony intones, waving his hands around to emphasize how much he disagrees.

Sam takes a drink of his apple juice and simply shrugs. “Then tell me what it stands for, Stark?”

“With pleasure,” Tony turns to face them, as if he’s on a stage and they’re watching him perform, which, to be fair, probably isn’t too far from the truth in his mind, Sam acknowledges.

“Stunning Heroic Individuals Excelling—“ Tony frowns. “That’s not it.”

“His ego is the size of Montana,” Skye says conversationally, as if Tony isn’t standing in front of all of them. “Have you ever realized that?” Sam tends to agree.

“I was thinking more like Russia,” Bruce says with a slight smile. He is like a giant teddy bear, and therefore immune to the consequences of meddling in a Tony and Skye argument. Though, to be fair, he probably just doesn’t mind. You’d have to not mind to be friends with Tony since the age of two.

“Silly Heathens—“ Tony starts to say, but then he sighs. “I have a list of these somewhere.”

“You’d think you’d actually be able to think of one off the top of your head then, wouldn’t you?” Sam teases, laughing when Tony holds his hand over his heart, looking offended.

“You would think,” Skye agrees, happy to see Tony fail, as always. “Anyway, losers, I have a date tonight, so I have to go make myself pretty.”

“Oh yeah, it’s your two year, congrats,” Sam had almost forgotten about that. They really make a cute couple if you ask him. He’s pretty sure he’ll be at their wedding in a few years.

Some people, he thinks, just fit together too perfectly to be apart.

“That’s a long time,” Steve comments. “Congratulations.”

Skye half curtsies proudly. “We’re very happy.”

“Two years is nothing,” Tony says. “Pepper and I have been together since the second grade.”

“That explains it,” Skye says ever so sweetly. “She just doesn’t know what else is out there.”

Bruce hides a chuckle at that, and Sam smiles slightly.

“Later,” Skye says, skipping off, and the rest of them sit in a companionable silence.

Sam has never actually been in a full-fledged relationship. It occurs to him now that he’s simply never had the time(or met the right person). He doesn’t really _mind_ , he supposes. Eventually he’d like to meet someone though(though his lack of meeting anyone in the past actually worries him a bit).

There have been dates, of course, along with jokes about how if Ms. Carter weren’t an administrator, and if he were over eighteen, he’d totally marry her(and the truth here is that if she were younger, he probably would).

He’s contemplating his possibly very lonely future when Steve speaks, interrupting his thoughts.

“What do you think, Bruce?” Steve turns to look at Bruce. “What do you think it stands for?”

Bruce seems surprised that Steve even cares to ask him, but then he smiles, slightly. “I don’t think it stands for much of anything.” Sam thinks about that, and honestly he thinks that the other man has a point. He wouldn’t be surprised.

Tony laughs at that. “That doesn’t even make sense.” He pats Bruce on the shoulder in a friendly way, so it doesn’t come across with any kind of sting.

Steve sits, clearly considering Bruce’s words, and Sam watches silently. “Why do you think that?”

Bruce ticks his head to the side slightly. “Have you met Hill yet?”

Steve shakes his head.

“She’s the one in the golf cart, the security officer. There is literally a rule in the school charter dedicated to her not running over students with the golf cart.”

“That rule could be for anyone,” Tony interrupts.

“Absolutely, it’s probably also for Tony, because he can’t be trusted,” Sam agrees.

“The point is,” Bruce continues, “that Fury’s kind of a troll.”

“Fury’s kind of a what?” Sam hears behind himself, and his eyes open wide.

“Nothing,” Tony says quickly, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “We’re just going.”

“Uh huh,” Fury just stares at them, and the rest of them jump to their feet. “You see that you do.”

They manage to avoid laughing until they get to the parking lot, but only just.

~~

On his first day of winter break, Sam decides to watch old movies in his pajamas, drinking orange juice and eating breakfast foods all day.

He’s tempted to call his friends and invite them over—after all, his mom won’t be back until the next day from visiting his grandfather—but instead he relaxes, enjoying a day without people.

When there’s a knock on his door around dinner time (he’d been thinking waffles for dinner, to complete his day of breakfast foods), he’s surprised to open it and find Steve.

He narrows his eyes, and wonders whether or not he should have put on a shirt. He looks down, just in case, to make sure that he remembered to put back on shorts after his shower. Thankfully, yes, he did.

“Sorry to intrude,” Steve apologizes, clearly uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam says, walking over to a basket of laundry and grabbing a t-shirt to pull over his head. “Come on in.”

Steve hesitates slightly, but walks in, shutting the door. “I should have called.”

“It’s okay,” Sam says slightly more firmly.

Steve has a comforting presence, and interacting with him doesn’t require the energy of, say, interaction with Tony Stark.

“What’s going on?” Sam asks, because Steve seems a little heavier than usual, like he’s carrying something around that he needs to unload.

“Nothing,” Steve says, and even though it’s clear that that’s not the case, Sam just shrugs. He isn’t going to make him talk about something he doesn’t want to talk about.

“I was going to make waffles for dinner—chocolate and cinnamon actually, but I could adjust if you’re in the mood for something else.”

“Waffles sound perfect,” Steve says gratefully, breathing out heavily, like he’s releasing a little bit of that tension.

Sam just nods his head. “Sit, watch. Change the channel if you want.”

“What are you watching?”

Sam laughs. “At this point, they’re all kind of melding together. I have no idea.”

Sam whips up some waffles happily, humming to himself while Steve flips through channels until he lands on espn, and Sam lets out a sigh of relief.

“I’ve been pigging out all day,” Sam says, maybe a little bit ashamed, but also not really.

He hands Steve his plate, and then sits down to eat his own.

“These are fantastic,” Steve compliments him. “They make me think I probably should have run an extra mile this morning.”

Sam, who ran early this morning too, disagrees. “I think you’re okay.” The guy is kind of ripped, after all.

Steve smiles that smile he does, where it’s like he’s made of pure sunshine, and Sam is grateful that the guy isn’t his type, because _damn_.

They sit quietly watching some nonsense sports documentary, occasionally commenting or laughing at something, while they eat.

When the documentary is over, Steve picks up both of their plates and takes them over to the kitchen, which shares a doorway with the kitchen.

When he comes back moments later, Sam gives him a measured look, and tries to make his face look as supportive as possible. He’s not sure how well he succeeds, but Steve sits back down next to him and sighs.

They both stare ahead at the television and Sam taps his fingers against the couch arm. Sam is patient, or at least he tries to be, and he’s trying to give Steve some time and space, but it’s making for a slightly awkward moment.

There’s companionable silence, where you’re happy to just be quiet together, and it’s comfortable—and then there’s an awkward silence, where every moment where neither of you say anything makes things progressively more awkward. This is definitely one of the latter kinds of silences, Sam thinks.

He’s generally more of a companionable silences kind of guy.

“Did you ever hear why I transferred from my old school?” Steve asks finally, and Sam fights the urge to yell triumphantly.

“You never told me, and I don’t listen to rumors,” Sam says, rubbing his head with his hand to burn off excess nervous energy.

“I received a—“ Steve frowns. “An invitation of sorts from Principal Fury offering me an art scholarship.”

That’s actually kind of strange to Sam’s mind, because while the school can be relatively expensive, it seems strange to offer a scholarship to someone almost halfway through their senior year.

Fury has always been an odd one though, and for reasons Sam can’t quite explain, he generally respects the man. He usually has his reasons for the odd things that he does(and sometimes, they’re very odd indeed).

“I used to get into a lot of fights at my old school,” Steve said, and Sam is genuinely stunned.

“Really?” he asks, because, well, _wow._

Steve seems like a genuinely nice person, and generally non-violent. Honorable though, Sam realizes, remembering their conversations about the army, and Steve’s reaction to Skye’s conflict with Grant.

Steve winces. “I don’t like bullies. I can’t watch, I have to—“ Steve pauses, and Sam understands.

“You fight back,” Sam finishes. And fighting gets tiring at some point, doesn’t it?”

Steve nods. “A zero-tolerance policy that’s actually a zero-tolerance policy is a godsend,” he admits.

Sam reaches out and pats Steve’s shoulder. “But you still feel like you should be there, fighting the good fight.”

“I’m worried about all of the people I left behind,” Steve admits, clearly conflicted.

Sam’s not sure what to say to that.

“I was at the mall today looking for a gift for my grandmother’s birthday when I came across some bullies from my old school and I realized,” Steve says softly. “That they’re probably worse than ever.”

“Did you see them messing with anyone?”

“No,” Steve admits, “But still.”

Sam nods his head. “You want to transfer back.”

“No,” Steve says. “But I might have to.”

Sam remembers when he came to S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, and he remembers his interview with Fury, and he remembers what the other man said about why the school exists. “Have you gone to see Fury yet?”

Steve shakes his head no. “I’m supposed to go see him at some point, but I haven’t really had the time yet.”

“Make time,” Sam says. “Even if you have hunt him down over break. It’ll be worth it.”

Steve doesn’t believe him, Sam knows, but it’ll help.

Sam has a feeling that Fury showed up to the school and put the fear of god in everyone who participated or enabled the bullying there, but Sam doesn’t say that, because that’s not for him to say.

~~

The rest of winter break is a mix of baking, parties, and far too much daytime television, if you ask Sam, but that’s how it goes.

He doesn’t actually see Steve again outside of parties though, but they text a bit about miscellaneous things that don’t involve what they’d talked about that day after school ended. Sam is giving Steve space, and he figures that Steve just doesn’t want to talk about it.

Sam is actually not entirely sure that Steve will show up back at school come spring semester.

So when Sam walks into his first period class and sits down, he puts a lot of energy and focus into twiddling his thumbs to take his mind off of it. He saw Steve a few nights before at the last of Tony’s parties before school started up again, and he hadn’t said anything about possibly transferring(but he also hadn’t said anything about _not_ transferring).

The warning bell rings, and there’s about a minute until the final bell rings(and Steve Rogers is never late), and Sam feels something sink heavily in his stomach.

“Hey,” he hears as Steve slides breathlessly into the chair next to him right as the bell rings. “Barely made it.”

Sam manages a weak smile. “Just barely.”

~~

To be fair, Sam thinks, no one should _ever_ leave Tony Stark and company alone in a science lab.

Sam is pretty sure there should be a school-wide rule about it, even though _everyone_ should know that.

Apparently not though, because they’re down a science lab.

When the alarms go off and they all end up on the football field for _six hours_ until school is over(note to self, Sam thinks, ask Tony to blow things up near the end of the school day next time). There are actual officials checking out things to make sure there weren’t any poisonous chemical combinations, or any possibility of future explosions.

Tony is nowhere to be seen—he’s probably getting chewed out by his dad and Hill, Sam winces—and so the rest of them are just left with nothing much to do for the rest of the day. Fury refuses to let them go home early, because they are in his care, and he doesn’t want anyone getting any ideas about how to get out of going to school.

It happens in second period, so Sam has to go find the rest of his friends(and, sadly enough, he knows exactly where they are, because stuff like this happens every few months, and he has the emergency class chart practically memorized).

Before he even manages to get to Bruce’s calc class, he’s tackled from the side, and the air is knocked right out of him.

When he sees who did it, he’s oddly unsurprised. “Barton, you’re an asshole.”

This much is a universal truth, so Clint shrugs proudly. “Wanna sneak off and get in some target practice?”

“Don’t think I don’t know how that ends,” Sam shakes his head with a smile. He and Clint rarely talk, because they aren’t _quite_ friends, but they did both take that skydiving class two years ago, and they’re two of the best shots in their class, so sometimes they’re _almost_ friends.

Clint laughs. “Have you seen Natasha or Bucky?”

“Ah,” Sam says, “So that’s who you’re really looking for. No, I’m sorry.”

Clint sighs. “I think they wandered off somewhere. Or never showed up, who knows. I haven’t seen them today though. Maybe I’ll go find the science twins instead.”

“You must really be hard up for friends.” Sam thinks they’re perfectly nice, but they also act like they’re one person sometimes, and it’s a little freaky.

Clint shakes his head. “They’re actually pretty cool once you get past the babbling.”

“Oh, I know the babbling well,” Sam says, looking around the field and laughing. “I think I see Bruce, you can come with if you want.”

“I’m tempted,” Clint admits. “But I think I might just skip out and go to IHOP.”

“That is always your default,” Sam says, shaking his head.

~~

Steve and Bruce are talking near the edge of the field, and Sam is somehow unsurprised to hear them discussing what they think will be Tony’s punishment.

“Technically it was an accident,” Bruce says.

“Are you sure about that?” Steve asks wryly, because he isn’t.

Sam wouldn’t be either, to be fair. “No one can possibly be sure about that.”

Bruce cocks his head to the side, acknowledging his point. “He didn’t come to school planning to blow up anything. And he couldn’t have guessed that she was just going to leave them in the classroom alone for a few minutes. No one would ever do that.”

“I heard they had a sub.” Sam is sure it’s true, too.

“Ah,” Bruce says. “That explains everything.”

“It really does,” Steve comments.

The three of them sit in silence for a moment before bursting out in laughter.

“We’re awful,” Sam says when they slow down a little. “Actually awful.”

“We are,” Bruce agrees, and then the laughter returns, even more intense than before.

“I can’t breathe,” Sam is doubled over laughing, so he just collapses onto the grass in a mess of limbs and giggles. “No one tell Tony we laughed.”

“Tony would probably laugh with us,” Bruce points out. “Though, if he gets expelled—“

“He won’t get expelled,” Sam says. “He’s Tony. He’ll get suspended, maybe weekly detention until the end of the semester. His dad will get him out of it.” If he were anyone else, he’d be screwed, but he’s Tony, and a lucky bastard at that.

It’s true.

~~

“Studying is the only thing I am actually allowed to do. And I am strictly not allowed to go anywhere near anything science related.” Tony seems to be taking it pretty well, actually.

Tony, Bruce, Steve and Sam are sitting around a table studying, and it’s surprisingly comforting without Tony’s usual shenanigans.

“What about your—“ Sam starts to ask about his computer, but Tony interrupts.

“He took it away. Which is only going to hurt him in the end, because he’ll have to print out everything I need, thereby cutting my work in half.” Tony is smug, of course, but Sam thinks he’s going to regret that.

It’s only been a day, and Sam is pretty sure that Howard Stark is not going to do Tony’s research for him. He’s going to tell him to go to a library, and Sam really hopes he’s around to see Tony’s face when he does, because it’ll make his year.

Sam can already picture it, and it’s beautiful. He might cry. He’ll definitely take a picture(maybe even video).

“I’m not technically allowed to go anywhere but school until graduation, but I’m sure he’ll bend a little,” Tony winces, because he knows that’s not true. “Maybe, if I’m lucky.” Tony is a lucky guy, but everyone’s luck has to run out sometime.

~~

“I’m not even allowed to eat pizza,” Tony whines. “Because apparently pizza is a reward, and I am being punished.” They’re packing up to leave the Stark house, because they’re done studying, and Tony is  . . . upset, to say the least. “If I want pizza, I have to learn how to cook and make it myself.”

“Good luck with that,” Sam feels bad for the guy, but he still won’t explain what he was thinking in the lab, and honestly? Sam doesn’t want to know.

What he does know is that there’s an official school rule inspired by Tony concerning disasters on campus, and Tony has to spend five hours a week with Coulson talking about his feelings and fears or something like that, and Sam does not envy him in the least.

~~

Sam’s arm is asleep, because Steve’s head has been leaning against it for the last two hours(that’s what happens when you fall asleep studying).

Sam needs to move his arm. _Badly._

He nudges his arm out from under Steve’s head, and Steve’s head ends up on his chest. He wonders whether this is awkward or not, and then he does the world’s tiniest shrug and falls back asleep.

It reminds him, he thinks as he drifts off, of that episode of FRIENDS where Ross and Joey took naps together. He’s always kind of wanted a nap partner of his very own.

~~

Every single day, Sam looks forward to the end of high school.

He likes to focus on graduation, because it helps to distract him from looming college acceptances(and denials).

February arrives, and he stares at his phone all day at school. Today is the day one of the schools he applied to posts its decisions. He’s not the only one whose hand doesn’t leave his phone all day.

He’s supposed to get an email telling him to login and check, but Sam thinks it would just be faster to check every two minutes until it’s up.

Some girl in his third period gets in as a math major, and he isn’t jealous, not really. Okay, yeah, he’s jealous.

Tony is completely unconcerned, even though he applied too.

This school is like two hours away, and S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy is basically just a feeder school for it.

Steve didn’t apply there, but he’s a decent person, so he actually seems to be worried for Sam.

“I’m not worried,” Sam says. “It’s my back-up.” The thing about back-ups though is they show whether or not you were completely misguided to apply to your dream schools or not.

“It’s still kind of anxiety-inducing though, right?” Steve says, rubbing his hands together anxiously.

“Did you secretly apply or something?”

“No, of course not,” Steve breathes deeply and settles down. “I’m honestly just nervous to see where you guys end up. I didn’t have a lot of friends at my old school, so you guys—“ his cheeks are a little pink-tinged when he says this, “You’re my people,” he says softly.

“Is that from a show?” Skye says, leaning over towards them from her spot behind them. “Sorry, I was listening. It’s from something, right?”

“I have no idea,” Steve scrunches his face together. “Maybe?”

“I feel like it must be from something,” Sam says, thinking aloud. “That’s weird.”

Skye nods. “I think—“ she practically jumps up out of her seat to grab Sam’s phone when it buzzes on the desk.

Sam has never told her his password, but she unlocks his phone with ease. “You have an email— _the email,_ ” she says dramatically, clicking her way to the website and typing in his email. “What’s your password?”

“Skye, please,” Sam says, and Skye makes a face at him and tries something, frowning when it’s the wrong password. She tries again, and lets out a triumphant “Got it!”

“Please don’t tell me,” Sam says suddenly. He actually really wants to know, but maybe he doesn’t?

Steve puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder and he breathes in deeply.

“You have this,” Steve says.”

Skye bites her lip. “Do I click the tab, yes or no?”

Sam hesitates, “Yes—“she clicks. “No, no!”

“You got in!” Skye topples the rest of the way over the desk to hug him. “I’m so proud of you.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“And your mother will be very excited too,” Skye says with a smile, reaching out and pinching his cheek before setting his phone back down on the table.

“Skye,” Sitwell says, “Would you mind retaking your seat?”

“Absolutely, I would mind,” Skye sighs. “But I’ll do it anyway.”

Sam shares a smile with Steve, and struggles not to laugh.

~~

“I hate Valentine’s Day,” Sam says with a sigh. “Absolutely hate it.”

Steve gives him a sympathetic smile. “I think it’s occasionally kind of sweet, especially when you actually have someone to celebrate with.”

“I guess,” Sam wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t know.” Though there was that one time that he, Clint Barton, and Natasha Romanoff threw little candy hearts at people all day. They weren’t even really friends, to be fair(Sam doesn’t think he’s said more than two words to Natasha in the seven years they’ve gone to school together), but Sam had started it by accidentally pelting Tony, and then Clint and Natasha had popped up, grabbing handfuls of candy hearts, and it had become a competition of sorts.

Valentine’s Day, Sam thinks, is a _weird_ day.

“I did, once. Kind of,” Steve frowns. “Maybe, kind of. There was a person. It was . . . not terrible. We broke up the next week though.”

“Yikes. Valentine’s Day stress?”

“No, just . . . relationship stress. We didn’t really have very much in common, and that became evident when we had completely different ideas of what constituted romantic.”

“Ah.” That seems to be as good a reason as any to end a relationship, Sam supposes. “Relationships are a lot of work anyway,” he says in as comforting a manner as possible. Not that he would _know_ , but that’s beside the point.

“Not really,” Steve says. “I mean, there’s always at least some work, but it doesn’t always have to _feel_ like work, you know?”

Sam doesn’t. “Yeah.”

~~

Sam doesn’t feel like he has an empty hole in his life or anything. He’s generally happy. He has plans(and dreams), and he knows who he is most of the time(which, he thinks, probably puts him ahead of the curve).

Sam is obsessed with flying—he’s wanted to be a pilot ever since he was a kid—he loves birds(though his bird-watching side hobby is an absolute secret, okay?), and if he could have a super power, he’d choose flight without hesitation.

There are moments, such as now, when he likes to stand at the edge of a building and imagine jumping off.

He’s comforted by the closeness to that absolute freedom and control.

The power and precision of flying has always fascinated him, which is why he doesn’t jump.

One day, he thinks. One day.

~~

“I’m going to teach you how to make milkshakes,” Tony declares.

No one is particularly interested in what he has to say, however, which only causes him to start pouting.

“I already know how to make milkshakes,” Steve points out. “They aren’t that complicated.”

Tony shoots Steve a withering look and shakes his head. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Steve Rogers.”

“Tony—“ Sam says warningly, and Tony has the decency to at least drop his mean face.

“Okay, okay.” Tony sighs. “I’m stuck here all of the time, and I’m not allowed to do anything actually interesting, but I am allowed in the kitchen, so long as I’m not doing anything overly scientific.”

“Ah,” Bruce says. “I knew there had to be a reason.”

Tony continues, completely ignoring Bruce’s words.

Sam fights laughter, and Tony explains. “I have made the perfect milkshake.”

“A milkshake is a milkshake, dude,” Sam tells him with a laugh. “It’s really not that complicated.”

Ten minutes later when they all actually _try_ the milkshake, it turns out they are wrong, and Tony is right, though none of them but Tony actually say that in so many words.

They all pretend the milkshakes are perfectly average, but they all watch carefully as he walks them through how to make them.

Of course, it’s entirely beside the point that Sam and Steve both actually take the recipe and end up making them every week when they study for government. _Entirely_ beside the point.

~~

Steve’s sixth period is a drawing class, and while normally this would involve him actually being with his class and completing different boring tasks, on occasion it involves him wandering the campus, looking for things(or people) to draw.

In this case, he needs a person. Half the class took this assignment as a means to wander out of the school to find someone(or pretend to do so, at least), but Steve thinks this is a perfect opportunity to spend time with Sam, who is still working as a TA in the administration office this semester.

Sam is not sure how he feels about this whole ‘let Steve watch him for an hour every day for a week’ thing.

It feels like he has his own personal stalker, if he’s honest, and because he generally is, he says so.

Steve smiles, “Is that a yes?”

“I’ll have to ask Ms. Carter,” Sam says, turning back to the stack of files he’s supposed to alphabetize. He doesn’t do a whole lot, so sixth period is basically his homework class most of the time, though occasionally he actually gets stuff to do.

Ms. Carter chooses that moment to reenter the office. Sam has a theory that she’s actually a former spy—and her vaguely British accent doesn’t help to dissuade him from this, though she does sound slightly aristocratic.

Sam doesn’t know very much about Britain outside of Bond films though, so he clearly has no idea what he’s thinking here.

Maybe he should write a book, he thinks. No, he thinks. Definitely not.

“Hello, Ms. Carter,” Steve says, the perfect, smiling and charming school boy.

Ms. Carter tilts her head to the side ever so slightly. “Hello, Steve.”

“I have an assignment from my art teacher—“ Steve pulls out the sheet to hand it to  her, “and I was hoping I could use Sam here as my project.”

Ms. Carter purses her lips. “I don’t see why not.”

Steve looks ready to do a little dance, and as soon Ms. Carter turns to Sam, he does.

Sam tries not to laugh and fails miserably.

Ms. Carter turns back to see Steve, who freezes in an awkward little position with his arms out like he’s a starfish, and raises an eyebrow. “Mr. Rogers,” she says. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Ms. Carter nods. “As you were, boys,” she says before walking into her little nook of an office and shutting the door.

Sam and Steve look at each other and burst out laughing.

~~

Steve is nervously pacing around the office on the third day of his art project(and, let’s be real here, he finished that the first day), and he’s entirely focused on the envelope in his hands.

He’s been holding it all day, and he just won’t open it.

Steve applied to four ‘regular’ universities, and two art colleges, and he didn’t get into the first art college, so if he doesn’t get into this one—“I’m going to throw up.”

“I feel like I might if you don’t slow down,” Sam says with a shake of his head. Sam only has one more acceptance or rejection to go(the insistence of his teachers on describing it as a ‘denial’ is simply rude and wrong, if you ask him).

“I’m nervous.”

Sam has been telling Steve to open it all day. All. Day.

He’s tried logic, bribery(there could have been _milkshakes),_ and mild threats, but nothing works.

“It is technically a big envelope,” Sam points out. “I’m pretty sure that’s a good thing.”

Steve shoots him a look, and then sits on the floor. “What if I just never open it?”

“That’s a terrible idea. You won’t reply by the deadline, and you won’t be able to go, and you’ll be stuck at some boring school your parents want you to go to, and you’ll be miserable, and you’ll get a boring desk job, and one day you will literally just die of boredom. “

Steve is sweating profusely on the floor, and Sam is concerned he’s going to make his own little puddle.

Sam also wonders whether mopping is part of his job description. “No one interesting will come to your funeral.”

Sam has no idea how this works, but somehow Steve is ripping open the envelope and reading his acceptance letter(because, uh, duh?), and then he’s literally jumping for joy and spinning Ms. Carter(and then Sam, next) around, lifting them off the ground(showoff).

“So,” Sam says when Steve calms down a little. “Did you get in?” he teases.

~~

“You want a _what?”_ Sam makes a face.

“A tattoo,” Steve says confidently. “I’ve been contemplating designs for a while now.” He seems so proud of himself, and Sam is loath to burst his bubble, but—nope, he’s going to do it anyway.

“Dude, you aren’t even eighteen yet.”

“I like to think of that as a slight barrier that I’ll easily overcome.”

Sam bites his lip, and thinks. “Why don’t you just wait for your birthday? It’s like three months away, Steve.”

Sam has nothing against tattoos, okay, but he used to watch One Tree Hill reruns with his grandmother, and he remembers the episode where Lucas’s tattoo got infected, and that’s just nasty, okay? That’s exactly what happens to people who get tattoos from shady people because they aren’t old enough to go to legit tattoo artists.

He’s already thinking of google searches he can do to show Steve that this is an awful idea.

“I was hoping,” Steve starts to say, then hesitates.

Sam looks up at him sharply. There is a tiny part of him(okay, a pretty big part), that is very concerned about what Steve might be about to say.

“I was hoping,” Steve starts again, “that you might know someone?” He smiles that charming smile, but it doesn’t work this time, because Sam is not a goddamn fool.

“Oh yes, of course, with all of my criminal friends, I must know a tattoo artist.”

It takes him only a second to realize that he does indeed have criminal friends, and he winces. “Sorry, Steve. I have the wrong kind of criminal friends. You decide you want to set off a glitter bomb, then I’ve got a guy. Hell, I’ve got multiple guys. But I do not have a tattoo artist.”

Steve is disappointed, that much is clear, but he just nods his head.

Sam feels like he’s kicked a puppy, but he doesn’t actually know a tattoo artist, and there’s not really anything he can do about that.

“So what brought this strong desire to get a tattoo on?” Sam asks.

Steve just shrugs. “It’s kind of an art thing. I’ve had this idea in my mind for a while now, and I have this weird need to see it on my skin.” He scrunches his nose, like he’s unhappy with his explanation.

“I get it,” Sam admits. “But if you’ve been working on it for this long, a few months isn’t going to make too much of a difference.”

“I suppose.”

“Unless, of course,” Sam starts. “You’re just trying to get it done before you chicken out,” he teases, and Steve picks up a french fry and throws it at him, which sparks a mini food fight.

Sam is pretty happy with that outcome though, because by the end of things, Steve seems perfectly content.

This, in turn, makes Sam feel pretty great.

~~

Today is the end of everything, Sam thinks.

The day that proved to him that hope is futile, and there’s no point in caring about anything. In the end, life will only bring you suffering.

This day begins as a perfectly normal day. Maybe even a good day.

It becomes the worst day when school’s already over, and he’s contemplating a workout before dinner when suddenly everything is completely ruined.

There it is, in the mailbox.  The letter from his dream school.

The thing about dream schools is that they’re your dream. They may not be what you’ve always wanted(or maybe they are), but they are what you want in your heart of hearts.

The dream school is not just indicative of where you want to be, but _who_ you want to be.

Today, it seems, there is one less potential Sam in existence, because he did not get in.

He stays in bed for the rest of the day, and is stunned that he manages to drag himself to school the next day.

People actually whisper about him. “He’s wearing his pajamas,” Skye whispers softly. To be fair, those people are his friends. “Should we be worried?”

“I’m concerned,” Tony announces. “What’s wrong, Wilson?”

Sam doesn’t respond. The first bell will ring soon, and he can go to first period, and then second(oh, blissful quiet), and then with every passing moment, he’ll be closer to death.

He’s feeling a little morbid.

Ten minutes later he makes his way to class, and Steve(who was with the group in the morning, Sam thinks) is nowhere to be found.

Steve shows up fifteen minutes late with coffee and pie.

It’s even his favorite, which means that Steve? Steve is basically his favorite person.

Somewhere along the line, Sam thinks as he stares down at his pie, Steve became his best friend.

He doesn’t have to tell Steve about the school(not yet, anyway, though he will), but it’s nice to be supported.

The next day, Ms. Carter gives him a scarf she knitted for him, and Sam feels blessed.

Maybe, he thinks, it’s okay that every dream doesn’t come true.

~~

On the day of the school festival out on the football field(which takes place fifth period through lunch and sixth every year), Sam is unsurprised to see Steve light up when they come up to the face painter.

Steve is like an excited child, and none of them can possibly say no to him when he’s that genuinely excited about something.

He’s a little less excited child five minutes later when he’s whispering to the face painter and pointing to neck, and then ten minutes after than when he has a penis on his neck.

“Are you six years old?” Sam asks, but Tony is already asking the face painter to do the same thing to him, and Bruce is shaking his head and sending Sam a look, and Sam just shrugs.

Skye glares at them all, and a few minutes later, she has a vagina on her chest, and Steve, at least, has the decency to look embarrassed.

Sam gives Steve a ‘what the hell’ look, and Steve just shrugs.

“I started a trend,” he says a little later, when Sam swears a quarter of the school has some version of that thing on them.

“I can see that,” Sam says, who got a tiny one on his hand in solidarity. He’s got a really cool bird on his face—a falcon that actually looks like a falcon, courtesy of Steve, who took over for the face painter when she said she was bad at animal creatures(Sam believes this, because he saw what he thinks was a bloodied, mangled bunny on someone’s face, and he’s pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be like that on purpose).

“What’s with the penis?” Sam asks, and Steve just shrugs.

“Graduation is next month, and then we have to go off to courage, and we’re never going to be able to do anything stupid or silly again,” Sam is pretty sure this is not how adulthood actually works. “Do you ever just have the desire to give into your inner urges?”

“No,” Sam says. “No, I don’t.”

Steve looks like he has something to say about that, but he settles for, “Well, I do.”

They run into Bucky Barnes a few minutes later, and he has like ten penises all over him.

“Steve, right?” Bucky says, giving him an odd look. “I hear you started this thing.”

Sam is pretty sure Steve blushes when he nods in affirmation.

“He did, despite his better instincts,” Sam says.

Bucky just narrows his eyes at Sam, and then turns to Steve and smiles. “Well, I’ll see you guys around,” and he wanders off.

“That was . . . interesting,” Sam says.

Steve is about as red as a tomato now, and Sam thinks he might have been holding his breath throughout that entire exchange.

“Dude, you have to play it cool.”

“I am cool,” Steve insists.

“Uh huh,” Sam cocks his head to the side, “Really.”

“Really,” Steve says a little more confidently. “Like I’ve been submerged in ice for seventy years.”

“I’m not even sure what to say to that,” Sam admits. “But I kind of want another cupcake.” He’s been eyeing the stand for the last half an hour, and every time Steve seems to nudge them a little closer to the cupcakes, he turns back, and they don’t quite get there.

There is nothing more disappointing than cockblocking the true romance of Sam and cupcakes.

Sam says none of this, of course, and sips his slushie.

He’s going to get himself another cupcake. Teasing Steve can wait until later, when they meet back up with the others(who wandered off somewhere between the pixie sticks and the pie eating contest) and it’s about five times more fun.

~~

“What do you know about Bucky Barnes?” Steve asks a few days later.

He tries to slip it into a lull in conversation, as if no one will notice, but Sam watches as five other heads shoot up(and Pepper and Darcy don’t even know him, at least not as far as Sam knows).

“He’s hot,” Pepper says, proving Sam wrong.

“He is,” Bruce agrees.

“That’s ridiculous,” Tony scowls. He’s probably mad that Pepper is calling someone other than him hot(though, to be fair, given the chance between Bucky and Tony, Sam would choose Bucky too).

“Are you harboring a secret love for Bucky Barnes?” Skye asks, placing her hand over her heart dramatically and faking a sweet southern belle accent. “Why isn’t that the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I almost sat next to him the day I transferred,” Steve admits, sounding a tad guilty. Sam is not hurt by this at all, because clearly he’s made the right choice, and _that’s_ what matters. “And I just think he’s interesting.”

“Why didn’t you sit next to him?” Skye asks, dropping the accent. “Not that I wouldn’t have sat down next to Sam too, of course,” she covers quickly, smiling sweetly at Sam, who just shakes his head.

“Sam seemed . . . “ Steve trails off. “Nice.” He meets Sam’s eyes and smiles, slightly.

Sam is surprised _he_ isn’t harboring a secret love of Steve Rogers, personally.

~~

Senior Skip Day is an interesting tradition.

Sam and his friends have had plans for this day since freshman year. It’s an important day, according to most people.

Sam has been looking forward to this day for so long, and yet it’s completely going to be ruined now.

You see, four years ago, when Sam entered high school he hadn’t intended to have a perfect attendance record.

And every year, the student who graduates with the best attendance record gets a $5000 scholarship, and, well, money is money.

College is expensive as all hell, and Sam is tied with one other person who also has perfect attendance, and if he misses school on that one day . . . there goes $5000.

So Sam Wilson is going to school on Senior Skip Day, and there’s not a thing in the world that could stop him.  
~~

Tony is unsupportive. “I feel betrayed. Everything I know and love is false.” Tony turns away dramatically, and Skye rolls her eyes. Bruce just shakes his head, Steve snorts, and Sam shrugs.

“I have to do what I have to do.”

“You have to come with us,” Tony tells him. “This isn’t a negotiation.”

“You’re right,” Steve says. “It isn’t. He’s going to school tomorrow.”

For a brief moment, Sam is concerned that this is going to turn into a _thing_ —he imagines waking up hogtied because Tony would rather torture him all day than actually have fun(especially since he’s been banned from fun for months). Sam doesn’t want to see Tony’s face when his dad asks him why he wasn’t at school when, hello, he’s still technically being punished.

“I think I’ll go with you,” Steve tells Sam. “For moral support,” he smiles slightly, and Sam immediately shakes his head.

“Absolutely not. I expect you to come over to my house afterward and tell me stories, you guys.”

He makes them promise. He’s sure it’ll all be very memorable.

~~

Sam actually has great day. He’s one of a handful of people in most of his classes, so he spends most of the day watching movies and playing candy crush. The levels with the bombs are really frustrating if you ask him.

He’s pleasantly surprised by how peaceful his day is.

When he gets home, he doesn’t expect his friends to be there waiting for him, but that’s exactly what they’re doing(except for Steve, he notes, which worries him, and Skye, which doesn’t, because she’s probably just on a date or something).

“You guys look awful.”

“We are awful,” Bruce says.

 “We went to a new restaurant for breakfast, and we got food poisoning.” Tony sounds a little guilty, which means it was probably his idea.

Pepper, whose senior skip day isn’t even the same day, looks like she’d passed out on the floor next to him. She moans an affirmative. “Definitely his fault. I can’t believe we let him talk us into going there.”

“You could have said no.”

“We did,” Bruce says with a shake of his head, which only makes him turn a little greener than he already is, and moan in pain.

Sam is tempted to ask how they all got in his house, because he knows no one was there to let them in, but he doesn’t really want to know.

He’s guessing that would be Tony’s fault too.

Six hours later, after far too much vomiting, and lots of cleanup, he helps his friends home, and makes sure they all get comfortably into bed. It seems there are some benefits to friendship—for them, anyway, it seems.

When he gets home, Steve is waiting on his front porch.

“What happened to you today?” Sam asks. “The others were here sick earlier. They said they didn’t know where you were.”

“I—“ Steve’s cheeks blush slightly.

“Really?” Sam asks. “You were out getting lucky?”

“Of course not,” Steve waves his comment off. “I spent the day with Bucky.”

Sam just stands there, blinking intensely. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a smile. “Wow.”

“Tell me everything.”

(As first dates go, and oh yeah, this was definitely a date, Sam assures Steve, a day at an amusement park isn’t too bad, but a makeout session on your front porch? An amazing ending, definitely.)

~~

Sam hasn’t put too much thought into what it means to graduate—it’s a check on his list. He hasn’t given much thought to what the actual moment _means_.

But now, standing in front of a mirror looking at himself in his robes? Yeah. He’s thinking about it.

He’s going to be a high school graduate, and then he’s going to college, and then(God willing), he’ll go into the air force, and then—well, he’s not really sure what comes after that, because it’s kind of the dream, but he’ll figure it out.

Tony is skipping their graduation to go to Pepper’s, of course, and Bruce is preparing his valedictorian speech, so it’s just Sam and Steve having a little graduation breakfast.

Orange juice, eggs, bacon, and hash browns—otherwise known as an excellent breakfast, if you ask Sam.

“Are you nervous?” Sam asks Steve, who is packing away his food pretty intensely, actually.

“No,” Steve denies with a shake of his head.

“Because you look nervous,” Sam says. “Really nervous.”

Sam isn’t nervous himself. He’s just . . . introspective at the moment.

“Okay, I might be a little nervous.” Sam reaches out and places his hand over Steve’s.

“It’ll be okay.”

~~

The actual graduation ceremony isn’t that interesting. It’s pretty sunny, and Sam’s glad he brought his sunglasses.

He falls asleep halfway through the ceremony, and the guy sitting next to him has to nudge him back away for the name-calling part of the ceremony.

He’ll have to apologize to Bruce for sleeping through his speech later(though in his defense, he fell asleep before the speech), but he’s seen him rehearse it about half a dozen times in the last week, so Bruce probably won’t have too many hard feelings.

He twists his cords around in his hands and waits for the next step towards his future.

~~

**epilogue(ten years later)**

Sam walks in on Steve and Bucky canoodling on the couch of the home he shares with them and covers his eyes. “You guys have got to get your own place.”

To be fair, he’s the one who is rarely ever there, so he’ll probably end up moving out.

Technically Natasha will too, but he’s pretty sure Bucky and Steve don’t even realize that she lives with them(or that she and Sam are dating).

Oops, he thinks. Oops indeed.

He’s been meaning to mention it, but you date some for three years without mentioning it, and then it’s basically impossible.

He tried, once, but then Steve thought he was joking, so Sam just shrugged and went on with his business.

“You weren’t supposed to be back until later, for the reunion,” Bucky points out.

“Sorry, Sam,” Steve says, smiling brightly. He’s far too happy to be particularly sorry, Sam knows, but he doesn’t mind.

“My flight got in early,” Sam tells them. “Which is surprising, for a flight.”

“Unless you’re the pilot, of course,” Steve says with a smile.

Sam just waves the compliment away. “Are you guys ready for tonight?”

“Not at all,” Bucky says with a little smirk.

“Well, I have to go do, uh, something before I go there, so I just need to pick up my suit, and I’ll see you both later?”

Steve nods and Bucky traces finger hearts on Steve’s face, and Sam has to struggle not to laugh.

~~

In a terribly typical of them fashion, Steve and Bucky announce their engagement at their ten year high school reunion.

It took them long enough, if you ask Sam.

Natasha shows up about then, congratulating them and saying exactly what he was thinking. “Took you guys long enough,” she says, sliding up against Sam and kissing him hello.

The way that their friends’ eyes look like they’re going to bug out of their faces is priceless.

“I thought I’d just get it out of the way,” Natasha whispers softly in his ear.

“I love you,” Sam says.

“I love you too,” Natasha replies, and while everyone is sputtering(except maybe Clint, who Sam thinks just _knows_ things sometimes) they stand and smile brightly.

There’s something fun about it.

Sam looks around at his friends—Tony is still with Pepper, who refuses to marry him until he gets his act together, Steve and Bucky, who are now _engaged_ , and Bruce, who is teaching at a college in Pennsylvania of all places, and he wonders how they all got there. Skye, who graduated the year after the rest of them, is off at some fancy technology company doing the kind of work Sam is pretty sure it’s illegal for the rest of them to know anything about.

He thinks he can trace it back to a million little moments—like Sam actually talking to Tony and Bruce, Skye adopting them as friends, and Steve sitting next to him in class that one day.

It’s funny how things turn out.

Sam imagines that in another world, things would be completely different.

(He’s mostly wrong, because sometimes you just can’t escape fate.)


End file.
